Fateful Spell
by Dukas
Summary: SUMMARY: What results from this miscast spell is beyond anything either of them could ever have imagined... Thorki cheese and fluff :D
1. Miscast Spell

_New, long story about Thor and Loki. It will mostly be from Loki's point of view, but every once in a while I'll do a Thor's point of view, because I know just how sweet it is to read the story from the "other guy's" perspective. :)  
_

_Loki is around nineteen; so is Thor._

* * *

It was a pretty peaceful day. The sky was clear, the breeze was nice, the leaves were tinted red as a sign of the advancing Autumn. The grass rustled and whispered songs of sleep, while birds chirped here and there to prepare one another for the annual migration. In all, the atmosphere was one of light calm. It was the perfect day to end summer break.

Loki sat on a large oak stump reading a spells book. Once school began he wouldn't have time to learn the spells that interested him, so he was grabbing what time he had left to learn a last bit of fun magic to prepare to amuse himself during school. He loved learning, and he loved magic. Fortunately, he was gifted with a talent for magic, and this combination allowed him to be the top academic student in Asgard Secondary. There were no rivals; no one had the level of intelligence remotely close to his. Thus, he had no one to hold a grudge against.

Perhaps Thor was an exception. He almost regarded him as a rival, and a rather hateful one. He didn't rival Loki in academics, though; while Loki held the spot for being the smartest student, Thor held the spot for being the most popular. This wasn't jealousy. He was irritated at how Thor attracted the favour of nearly every person in the school, including teachers, so effortlessly, while the smart one toiled with his studies to gain a mere smile from one teacher. He didn't seem to care about life, while Loki did, but Thor got more from life than he did. So he hated him for it. And though they knew about each other's existence, they've never exchanged a single word. And Loki was quite happy that way. He loathed his crass, flippant, guts -

Loki took a deep breath. No. This was the last day of summer break, and he mustn't waste energy on hatred. He refocused on the page before him.

The spell he was learning was a complicated, but delicious, one. It involved much time, concentration and many words, but the product, he believed, would be more than worth it, and the effort it required appealed to his studious nature. It was a spell of transformation: directed at any organism - a plant, an insect, or a deer - the creature will turn into a young girl. Loki'd always wanted to know what an insect would look like as a human girl. Besides, if any of Thor's hulking friends decided to gang up on him, he could always use this as a defense.

Now that would be hilarious.

Smirking to himself quietly, Loki began to gather energy onto the tips of his fingers, and aimed it at a lonely dandelion swaying in the breeze. His mouth smoothly formed the words, and he let it flow.

A shout sounded nearby. Loki paid it no attention; spells can go dangerously awry if interrupted or stopped in the middle. Continuing as he did before, as if there had been no interruption, and he hoped that the person would go away.

He - the voice was rough and masculine, vaguely familiar - didn't go away. Rather, he came nearer, and trailing him was the sound of rude laughter of several friends. Loki didn't know who it was because his eyes were on the flower. Still he continued the spell, though Loki was becoming slightly irritated.

At last, Loki was on the final four words. Three words. Two words.

One wor -

A sudden, jaw-shuddering force shook him off his seat on the oak stump, and sent him flying into a nearby pond. The shallow but cold water paralyzed him for a few seconds, but his senses returned quick enough afterwards. His hands were buried beneath his torso and bruised against rocks, while his fingers jutted into his chest, causing slight problems in breathing. He freed them, however, and was boiling with rage, the spell momentarily forgotten. He turned to see who it was, and was not surprised.

It was Thor, and his stupid, stupid friends.

The worst thing was that Thor didn't even _see_ who it was he pushed over. No, he didn't even _know_ he had pushed someone over. By this time he was already halfway across the field with his lumbering friends, his back a mocking, sneering eyesore to his sight.

Loki _hated_ his guts.

He stumbled back into his vast, empty house, soaking wet and numb.

* * *

What a bloody great way to end the summer vacation.

Nobody lived in his house so he didn't have to explain to anyone about his disheveled appearance. His father was away on another one of his billion business trips to Jotunnheim, he had no siblings - that is, none that he knew of (he has suspicions since his father was often surrounded by young girls, and his father wasn't the most passion-free man out there) and his mother had died, before he could remember, for a reason his father refused to explain.

Dropping the bag and textbook on the floor, he went into the nearest bathroom to change clothes and take a shower before the cold of the pond-water seeped into his skin. Loki fumbled with his shirt, his fingers stiff. Then something long and black curtained Loki's vision.

He looked up, startled. Had something followed him inside?

The mirror caught his eyes, and what he saw in the reflection gave him a fright he had never known. Standing there, bewildered and strange, was a slender, pale girl who resembled himself in every way except in gender, and he supposed that if he had a sister, this was what she would look like. Her hair was black and straight, trailing down to her waist, her face small and oval with soft angles and large, green eyes. The mouth was slightly opened, as if in shock, and it opened even wider as he realized whose reflection it was staring back at him.

Horrified, he rushed out of the bathroom to find that textbook. How does one undo the spell? It was the day before school began; he couldn't go to school in this form. Loki vaguely remembered that when he had fallen into the pond his fingers had pointed towards himself, and cursed heavily at Thor for being the cause of all this.

Finally, he managed to flip to the desired page. Skimming hurriedly over the words, he finally found the passage about its effects:

…_This spell must be used with the utmost caution, and should be used sparingly, for the effects are nearly impossible to reverse. The spell will last for a whole week, during which nothing can be done to lift the magic, so please review your intentions most thoroughly before you cast it…_

A week. An entire week.

But the worst was yet to come. Loki continued reading.

_...further emphasis on caution must be given in that under this spell, one may have little or no ability in magic, severely weakening the user in duels or in events where self-defense is essential..._

Loki wanted to go to Thor this instant, strip him of his flesh, bash his eyes out with rocks, and knock him senseless with all the forbidden spells he could think of. He hated him. He hated him so much the world began to shake, and he swore with such rotten fervor he was surprised the air didn't turn pungent from the foul words.

What was he going to do? Loki stalked back into the bathroom, and stared at his reflection again. He was a female version of himself. The jeering from the students he'd get if he walked into a classroom with this appearance would kill him, if the embarrassment didn't get to him first. What the hell could he do?

An idea formed in his mind. It wasn't a good plan, but it would do.

For a week, he'll go to school as an imaginary sister, filling in for a brother who was on an educational trip to the city of Midgard. For a week, he'll have to learn independence from magic. He couldn't ask for a week of absence; the Asgard principal, that kind fool, having nothing better to do in the rather small school, would hunt for absent students himself and pay personal visits to them to give them kind but absolutely unnecessary wishes. Loki had to go to school to avoid this problem. He'll have to play around with the school records a little, but that he can do. He wasn't the smartest kid in Asgard for nothing.

He hated Thor, but what happened had happened, and what else could he do but adapt? Loki swore to himself that he would have revenge one day.

* * *

_First chapter finished. I really hoped you enjoyed your time reading it. Please let me know how you felt! Thank you!_


	2. Unexpected Acquaintance

_In the school records, a male student named Loki Laufeyson received permission to take a leave of absence for a week, while the sister of the student, Astrid Laufeyson, entered as a temporary student to substitute for her brother during the time he would be away._

* * *

Loki stepped into the classroom, head slightly bowed, nervous that someone might guess who he truly was, though he knew that such a thing wasn't possible; this sort of magic belonged to a level too high above those in his class. Professor Heimdallr stood beside his desk, staring with his usual tacit and stern manner at the whispering class as he waited for the new student to approach.

"Class," he rumbled, and the students immediately fell silent at his soft, yet forceful voice. "Class," he repeated, "this here is a new student to our school. Her name is Astrid Laufeyson, and she will be staying here for a week to fill in for her brother. Please treat her with kindness."

Then he turned to me. "Please be seated over there," he said, and pointed to a seat near the windows.

As he walked, Loki felt disconcerted to feel so many eyes on himself. Head down, trying wordlessly to convince the students that he was of no worthwhile attention, he walked to the designated seat, and sat down to open his books. Now that he had joined the body of students and become one of them, the class turned its attention back to the front where Prof. Heimdallr began his lesson on History.

Loki began taking notes. At once, he noticed the disadvantages of being a girl. First, having a slighter figure than his original body, he had to strain his neck more to see the board. Second, the long black hair obstructed his view every bloody time he looked down to take notes, and he was furious after the first fifteen minutes of pushing the stubborn thing back every few seconds. He made a note to himself to buy some elastic bands next time he went shopping.

Half an hour later, his mood was downright foul. Prof. Heimdallr exited the classroom for a five minute break, and the class as a result erupted into conversation. Loki sat back, detached from it all because he was a new student, and reread his notes, not expecting anyone to talk to him. After all, he was "Loki's sister", and people stayed away from him.

"Hey. What's your name again?" said a voice beside me. It sounded disturbingly familiar, and he turned. He stared, in shock, at Thor.

How could he have missed his desk partner?

Thor smiled. "Hi, I'm Thor."

Loki recovered, and replied. "H-hi, I'm Lo - er, Astrid." Smiling too, and he hoped Thor wouldn't notice how strained it was as he tried to hold back his repulsion.

"How do you like this school?"

"It's…fine, I think."

"Where is your brother?"

Loki wondered at his interest. His wonder didn't go far, though; he remembered how much of a playboy Thor was, and understood that he simply liked girls.

"He's on a trip. In Midgard for educational purposes," Loki finally said.

"When will he be back?"

"Um…in a week or so," he answered.

"Oh. Then do you two - oh hey, watch out." Thor suddenly reached out and pulled Loki's shoulder in towards him. His touch made Loki's hair rise on its ends, and Loki was about to shove him away with all his might, swear words forming at the tip of his tongue, when he turned and saw one of his classmates - his name was Fandral - walking by swinging a scissor rather carelessly in the air.

"Hey, Fandral," called Thor sternly. He still had his arm curled tightly around Loki. Poor Loki's other shoulder was pressed against his chest, and he began to feel quite uncomfortable. Of course Loki was grudgingly thankful of Thor's actions and did not show blatant ingratitude by shoving him away, but being held so closely by your worst enemy? Not the most joyful of situations.

"Yeah?" Fandral called back, midstride.

"Watch where you swing that thing. You almost hit her," he said, nodding at Loki.

Fandral took a look at the new student. Loki looked back at him, and noticed how pale the grey irises of his eyes were. They almost looked transparent, and seemed to have no depth. Loki's examination was interrupted as Fandral suddenly smiled at him, and said apologetically, "I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you?"

"O-oh, no, it's fine, it's fine," Loki said quickly. This one seemed quite nice, and since Loki knew that even if Fandral had hit him it would have been an accident, he didn't mind at all, and wanted Fandral not to feel guilty in any way.

"You're the new girl, right?" He asked.

Loki nodded.

"Nice to meet ya…Astrid, is it? I'm Fandral." He stuck out his hand. Loki tried to lift his arm as well to reciprocate the friendly gesture. However, he had forgotten that Thor still had his arm around him, and couldn't move a single muscle. Loki glared at him, wondering what on earth was up. Thor's brow was furrowed, his expression one of annoyance and, strangely enough, worry, and after a few moments he glanced at Loki and let go.

Loki, sore, leaned away from him, nursing his recently imprisoned shoulder, and stuck his hand in Fandral's still outstretched palm. They shook.

Suddenly, Fandral brought Loki's hand towards his mouth, and kissed the back of it.

"Stop fooling around," growled Thor. For some reason Loki couldn't comprehend, Thor looked mad as hell. For Loki, though, it was fine; the gesture didn't upset him, since they believed he was a girl and he knew that the gesture wasn't directed towards the real him, Loki. Fandral was just paying his respects to his imaginary female guise.

Fandral grinned and waved a cheerful farewell before walking away. Thor glared at his back.

Loki wasn't aware they had any friction between them, since Thor was favoured by virtually everyone he came into contact with, so Loki asked, "Why do you not like him?"

He wouldn't meet Loki's eyes. "I just don't. Something about him pisses me off."

"Oh?"

Thor looked at Loki searchingly, as if attempting to read his mind. Then he said, "Nothing. Don't worry about it." Thor seemed reluctant to continue, and since Loki didn't care all that much about it, they both left it at that.

The rest of the day passed away in a relatively calm manner. The professors taught the classes as they always did, and once in a while in the breaks between classes Thor would speak to him about conversational topics, to his utter annoyance. Fandral also came by a few times to make light talk, though much to the mysterious dismay of Thor. Everything went as they normally did when Loki was still "Loki", with the exception of being more acquainted with Thor and Fandral. He was thinking, _Hey, this is pretty normal. If I could get through a week like this, I'm not complaining._

Then something happened after school.

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_Hooray for my diligence! Finished second chapter! I really thank you for reading this story thus far and for following, because you don't know how much happiness it gives me to know that my words are finding homes. *tears of joy*_


	3. Thor's Shock Extra

In walked the most beautiful girl he had ever set his eyes on.

He looked away, shocked at himself. But he couldn't help it; like a bee to pollen, his eyes strayed back to the slim figure, and the slight hunch that spoke of shyness, the baggy clothes that hid graceful, slender curves, and the pursed lips that indicated anxiety. She was beautiful, but a girl who was evidently hard to touch. He saw that many of his male classmates were also looking at the new girl, and felt a spark of irritation.

He caught himself again. He had never felt genuine interest for anyone, except one, and he had promised himself he would never, ever allow another to replace that one love, even though - and it deeply pained him to acknowledge this - even though that one love could never be reciprocated. There was an insurmountable wall between him and the one he loved. But Thor was an honourable man; he would only have one true love, even if he were to die alone. This was why, even though he was often surrounded by the prettier girls of the school, and sought their company, and played with them for a while, he would allow his relationship with them to grow only to a certain point and then absolutely forbid anything further. It was _because_ he had not an inkling of hope of touching the heart of his one true love that he distracts himself from the unhappy truth by drowning himself in the company of a variety of girls, immediately changing from one to another lest boredom should remind him that none of it was what he truly wanted. Most of the girls he flung off had called him cold, but they would return to him as platonic friends, drawn by his irresistible charm and the nostalgia of once being the target of his affections. Some others, however, had nearly saw through him, one observing casually but shrewdly that his heart, if carefully analyzed, belonged not where he showed it to be.

Still, Thor couldn't let anyone know who he truly loved.

But if that were the case, what was he feeling for this new girl? Thor was annoyed at himself, though he couldn't help feeling fascination for her. She was the first to unbalance the solid love he had had for eight years.

She walked up towards the empty desk beside him. Her eyes were cast down, looking quite nervous and stiff, as if afraid of being bullied. Thor wanted to embrace and reassure her, and he wanted to look at her eyes. Eyes told the most about a person's core, and for Thor they were the keys to his knowing whether the person was worth knowing or not. It had been two brilliant eyes that had irrevocably captured his heart for his one true love. Thor wanted to see this new girl's eyes because he hoped it would quell his feelings of interest - he had yet to come across two eyes as mesmerizing as _that_ person's eyes.

Astrid - that was her name - sat down. Thor heard whispers of envy among some of the boys, but dismissed them. He looked at her, who didn't seem to notice him at all. Then he addressed her, hoping for her eyes to direct themselves to his.

"Hey. What's your name again?" he asked.

She looked up. Her waterfall of rippling chestnut hair fell aside and for the first time since she walked into the class Thor had a full view of her face.

It was startling. Small, pale, delicate and feminine, and so fragile that a slight caress might hurt her. So pale that snow yellowed next to her skin. A nose with a slope so utterly perfect. Small, thin lips that spoke of intelligence, complemented by a smooth forehead. But all those features dulled in comparison to her _eyes_. Large, clear, emerald, moist, like raw jewels found deep within a mountain that whispered of many a secret and wonder.

_They were just like Loki's._

* * *

_Hehehe...isn't Thor sweet? X) I wonder if Loki will ever find out. Let's see where my imagination runs next.  
_

_Thank you so, sooo much for the favourites and the reviews! Gosh, it makes me feel so nice and warm inside, and drives me to write more! Please continue to follow, and I hope you've enjoyed your time! :)  
_


	4. A Close Call

The bell rang. Loki packed his stuff up to go home. The sky rumbled darkly, the clouds all thick and murky grey, as if bloated with an ocean's worth of rain. He pulled up his hood and was halfway through the door when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"Hey," said Thor.

Loki didn't restrain himself from pulling a face at his presence. If Thor noticed, he didn't show it. "Which way are you walking home?"

He pointed in the general direction of his house, throwing a vague wave to imply a reluctance to release too much information and that he needed no one to walk him home.

"Let me walk you home. I live that way too," Thor said brightly, completely ignoring the hint.

Loki rolled his eyes dramatically, and started walking rapidly away from him. If he still didn't get the hint, well, then Loki will blast his true feelings straight to that slaphappy face.

Unsurprisingly, Thor began to follow him. "Hey wait!" he called. Loki walked faster, his head down to protect his forehead against the rain, but Thor's well-built body easily caught up to his much slighter one, and he strode lazily next to him while Loki began to sweat from the exertion. But because Loki's level of tolerance for his presence holds for less than half a nanosecond on even the best of days, he still tried to increase the distance between the two of them despite his lack of strength. Thor, of course, was oblivious to his progressively fouler mood while droning on and on about himself and with questions that Loki gave brusque answers to. When they reached a major intersection, he finally saw his chance. The light for pedestrian crossing had been green for quite a while, and if he made a dash for it, he might be able to cross it just before it turns red on Thor.

When they were close enough, he suddenly turned to Thor and said, "Well, see you around!"

Then the light turned red. Loki was only halfway across, and there was a car heading straight towards him.

"No! Watch out!" He heard Thor yell. Everything happened too fast after that. Loki remembered a body slamming into his own. An enormous wave of water splashing over them. Honking. Swearing. Getting drenched and his hood falling off. Falling forward into warm clothes.

When his senses returned, the first thing he noticed was how immobile he was. All sides of his body were tightly constricted by what he slowly came to realize were arms and a broad chest, into which his face was snugly buried. Next Loki heard a heavy breathing in his ear, with regular puffs of breath warming his earlobe. Then memories of the past two minutes flooded back to him, and he knew that it was Thor who had saved him from a bloody death.

Loki squirmed to push away, but to no avail. He felt embarrassed beyond belief; his effort to get away from Thor only brought him that much closer to him!

"Why do you hate me so much?" Thor suddenly asked. His voice, being so close to Loki's ear, was amplified, and he could make out the smallest tone of sadness. Surprised, Loki stopped squirming. "Do you hate me so much to want to die?"

That wasn't true. Though Loki hated him, he wouldn't risk his life to stay loyal to his hatred. He actually felt grudgingly thankful, again, and so he shook his head - or tried to, in the tight embrace, which Thor still didn't release - and mumbled, "No, I was just…just…"

Thor released his grip and looked at him. "You're drenched," he said.

Loki felt his head, and found that indeed, the hood had fallen off during that moment, and a giant splash of water from the screeching tires of the angry car had left him soaking wet.

"Don't move," he said. "You've got a bit of dirt on your face." Loki watched as he extended a dry sleeve over his hand and used it to wipe Loki's face with a very gentle hand. Loki took this opportunity to study Thor's face.

His eyes were blue. Really, really, clear and blue. They twinkled, even in this somber weather, with a light that danced like sunlight on the ocean, and the irises seemed to hold an entire marine world in themselves. He had a long and sculpted nose that stood nobly over a strong jaw, and healthy bronze skin pulled tightly and attractively over his muscles and jaw line. Two strong brows were furrowed while he concentrated on wiping off the dirt from Loki's face, and as the latter studied his serious expression Loki's heart gave a strange thud, and he became embarrassed for a mysterious reason. And was it his imagination that Thor's face seemed to be getting nearer and nearer...?

Loki pushed Thor's hand away. "It's okay. I'm all right now."

Thor continued looking at Loki, and gave Loki's cheek one last dab. "All right."

They stepped away from each other awkwardly. Loki didn't know what to say, but it didn't seem right to just walk away without some words. Finally, Thor saved the moment. "Well, then, I'll…see you tomorrow."

Loki nodded. "Bye. And…thank you."

He smiled and waved before turning the other direction.

Loki walked home slowly, his mind in such a jumble of confusion that it could form no coherent thought. What it could form, however, and with annoying perfection, was Thor's face. It seemed stamped in his mind, and the more he tried to erase it, the more clarity it gained. Even as he reached home and got ready for a hot shower to wash his soaked hair, Loki couldn't get the moment out of his head. Thor had looked so concerned and sad. Loki put his hands on the part of his cheek where Thor had run his sleeve over, where Thor's touch had left a burning, throbbing echo. Loki wondered what was wrong with himself. He couldn't forget Thor's face.

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_THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! My days brighten considerably when I see them X) I will try to reply to as many of them as I can.  
_

_Hope you liked the latest installment! Next chapter coming in the next few days ;)_


	5. Awkward Conversations

**THOR**

Thor felt more and more confused. This was the most confusing situation of his life.

He'd played around with many, many girls - cute, plain, sexy, boring - but none of them had as much spunk as this new girl, and none of them took this long to charm, this hard to get. The other problem was that she reminded him too much of the one he could never touch, and Thor suspected that perhaps the strength of his charm faded a little _because_ they were so alike. Their similarity because they were siblings might be unnerving him; it was the first time he was so close to the one he had loved for so long. Maybe he was even nervous.

He didn't understand why Astrid kept brushing him off without any attempt at courtesy. At first Thor thought it was due to shyness, since for a lot of girls shyness could be mistaken as coldness, but usually the shyness sloughed off as time went by if he proactively sought their company. Astrid's coldness, however, was not shyness. Thor tried to ignore it, believing he'd soon be able to open her up, but he couldn't hold his feelings in any longer that time he had walked her home. She nearly got hit by a car running away from him! If it had been any other girl, he wouldn't have minded; there were many other girls he could hunt next. But, somehow, because it was Astrid, his love's lookalike, it stung. Badly.

So badly that Thor even had to ask directly. "Why do you hate me so much?" he had wondered while Astrid was in his embrace. It was the best moment to ask the question; he didn't have to look at her face if the answer was...unpleasant. He couldn't imagine what it could be, which was exactly why he was afraid to ask. Usually girls minds were open books to him, written all in the same, simple formula. This one was in a different language.

When Astrid had answered, "No," the relief was so strong it translated into the physical, and his embrace fell away as per his anxiety.

Then Thor made the mistake of getting too close to her face.

As if seeing those brilliant eyes once wasn't enough already. As if he hadn't fallen far enough already. He felt himself already in danger of falling for her, while his heart still belonged to another, and Thor knew if he allowed his heart to belong to two, the tension would kill him. But they were too alike. While he wiped her face, he saw the same fragility, the same mysterious fire, the same intelligence he had saw and loved in _him_. At last, so close, yet so far. Up close, with the rain pouring down on her hair, trailing down her porcelain skin in silver rivulets, she, with her hair slicked back, could almost be mistaken as Loki. For a brief moment Thor actually did believe it was Loki, staring back at him.

He was quite glad she had pushed him away after a while. He wouldn't have been able to stop himself. Thor thought he'd even have kissed her if she hadn't stopped him.

That night, Thor wanted to bash his head into the brick wall behind his house and drive some of his old, flippant self back into his senses. Since when did he become seriously flustered for a girl? The one thing on which part of his pride grew was his immunity to becoming struck and bogged down by stupid _feelings_ due to breakups and other melodrama that "real" couples go through. His heart, however, was tied to a dream impossible to realize, and therefore safe from pain.

But now...now he was struck.

It was a stupid thing to get hung up over, he knew. If he actually was able to fall in love with her and completely forget about Loki, he would do just that without much of a thought. The problem here, however, was that somehow, he wanted _both_ at the same time; he just couldn't let Loki go. He wouldn't, after all those years, and he suspected that even if he tried, those feelings, having been so long his company, would not go quietly. Even though he was a player, Thor knew that such a state of emotional ambivalence was immoral, and he would not stoop so low. Stories where a person loved everyone at the same time always ended in tragedies for the naive hero. He also considered the fact that she probably wouldn't want to share his love.

Sharing love...

The image of that sneering, shallow, sly Fandral suddenly popped into his mind. He remember with irritating clarity how Astrid had looked at Fandral, her eyes all bright with surprise, interest and placid fascination, with none of that barely hidden annoyance she unreasonably had for Thor. Jealousy burned fierce and deep within his chest. That guy. Now there was a _real_ player. At least Thor didn't pretend to be serious with his girls; they all knew sooner or later they had to move on. Fandral, however, was a wanted criminal who dealt solely in the true ruin of innocent girls' hearts. Thor couldn't let Astrid fall into those merciless jaws.

Thor smacked himself again. Over and over, he had to remind himself that he liked her only because she reminded him of Loki. She wasn't Loki. It was unfair to her if love between them became mutual, with hers being genuine but his founded only on her appearance.

But then again, she was _so much_ like him...

* * *

**LOKI**

Next morning he was smarter. Knowing that all girls needed an extensive amount of time before going to school, Loki woke early, and went into the bathroom to solve the problem of his distractingly long hair. He thought about cutting it, but it would gain him unfavourable attention. He thought about tying it up into a ponytail, but the endeavour proved to be so difficult he gave up with sore arms and much loss of time without any improvement on the hair. If he had magic right now, this would not be a problem. At last, he decided to braid it. Weaving three locks in and out as he had seen some girls do before, down his side, He finally came out of the bathroom, proud of the black snake hanging down over his chest, nicely stiff and controllable.

One day gone. Six more to go, he thought to himself. He could do this.

Seeing that he was dangerously lacking time, because of his hair, Loki hastily threw on "Loki's" clothing - he made a mental note to go buy some female clothing soon - and, grabbing his pack, ran to school. He was not late, fortunately, and arrived at school with some minutes to spare.

Through the unspoken rule that all students obey, Loki automatically walked towards the seat he had taken yesterday. He was already touching the desk to sit down when he remembered who his neighbor was, and by then it was too late to change seats without blatantly showing how much repulsion he had for Thor. A vague thought suddenly fluttered by him - _why do I care so much about what Thor thinks? _- and then disappeared.

So Loki sat down, resigned.

"You feeling okay?" was Thor's greeting.

He nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Good to hear it."

Loki felt Thor's eyes on him, and was suddenly, irritatingly, though unstoppably, aware of his presence, the proximity of his arms, and how the hastily made braid might look to him. Loki felt quite stiff, as if not knowing what to do, and almost afraid that whatever he might do would portray him as an idiot. Loki _felt_ like an idiot already being so conscious of Thor. Was stupidity a side-effect of this spell? A strange pressure began squeezing blood into his cheeks, and he burned all the more ferociously as he wondered what Thor would make of this unexplainable blush. What the hell was wrong with him?

"New hairstyle?" he asked.

Loki met his eyes briefly, and then embarrassment forced his glance away. "Y-yeah. Hair was distracting me."

"Looks good on you, Astrid," he smiled, leaning on one hand, still staring at Loki.

Immediately he was overtaken with irritation. Like every damn thing he'd been feeling today, he couldn't explain why he suddenly felt so annoyed and depressed by that comment. "No it doesn't. Whatever," he replied sharply. Then he immediately regretted his brusqueness.

Loki didn't have time for an apology, for right then Prof. Heimdallr entered and began the class. They didn't have a chance for conversation during the class, thankfully, but he disliked the guilt staining his conscience and wanted to remove it.

Then came class break. While everyone else jabbered away, silence dominated the air between the two, and though Loki wanted badly to beat it away, as a socially disabled he hadn't a clue how. So there they sat, Loki glumly pretending to look over his notes, once in a while feeling Thor's eyes on him.

Suddenly Thor spoke. "Sorry."

Loki looked up, surprised. "For what?"

"For…aren't you mad at me?" His blue eyes twinkled puzzlingly.

"I'm…no. No, I'm not. I should apologize for being so rude."  
His face went blank for a moment, then a relieved smile shone over his face. "It's all right, Astrid," he said, and lifted up a hand to brush away a lock of hair that had come loose and dangled in front of Loki's eyes. As his skin stroked Loki's cheeks, Loki's heart gave another strange thud and he looked away quickly lest Thor should see that cursed flood of colour was taking over his face.

_This guy…what was he doing to me?_ wondered Loki. _My emotions are a mess._

"Are those Loki's clothes?" he asked.

For a minute, the question startled him utterly, because for a moment he forgot he was posing as an imaginary sister. He must have looked like a drowning fish, if there were such a thing, his mouth opening and shutting like he wasn't getting enough air. Then he finally remembered that he was Astrid, and hoped Thor hadn't noticed his brief confusion. "Er, yeah, these are his clothes."

"Are you two very close?" Thor wondered aloud.

"Somewhat…" Loki replied uncertainly. How should he play it? Were they close siblings? Estranged?"

"Then do you know why Loki hates me so much?"

He was taken aback. Loki never knew his hatred had been important enough for his notice, so snobbish Thor unsurprisingly was being the boy idol of the school. He never paid a single iota of attention to Loki, except maybe to taunt him once in a while for being a nerd, and so this question, which implied that Loki's hatred towards him affected him a little, seemed completely contradictory to the personality Loki had known him to have.

Or maybe it was just that Thor couldn't stand attracting anything but admiration. Yeah, that seemed more likely.

"Perhaps because you don't seem to like studying so much?" He answered without giving away too much of the relationship between Astrid and himself.

Thor mulled over the answer, looking quite thoughtful. "Perhaps," he said.

"Why do you care?" Loki hazarded.

"Well…because I'd like to know him, I think. He seems such an…interesting fellow." Thor drew his gaze, which had been directed out the window, to Loki's eyes, smiling tenderly. Once again his heart fluttered, and he turned away.

What a way to play with girls by attacking topics close to them, thought Loki, silently laughing at Thor for being so confident and wrong about his flirting methods. Nevertheless, he was still shaken a little by Thor's unwavering eye contact. "F-from what I've heard my brother say about you, he doesn't think you notice him at all," he said to his desk.

"Does he? Probably. We don't really talk, after all." Thor sounded a little depressed.

Loki nodded, confused.

"You're quite lucky to be his sister, aren't you? Related to the smartest guy in the school and all," he said. "And - what are you doing? You'll mess up your hair!" He exclaimed.

Thor put his hands on Loki's to stop what they had been doing. Sometime during the conversation Loki had unconsciously developed the habit of running his fingers up and down the bumpy texture of his braid, the speed depending on his state of mind. As he had been becoming progressively more nervous, his fingers had been running progressively faster, until several strands of hair had come loose. Thor gently pried his hands away from his hair. "I like it. Don't ruin it."

Before Loki could feel another bout of unexplainable embarrassment, Prof. Heimdallr resumed the class.

Loki couldn't concentrate on the lesson. His mind kept wandering towards Thor's words, gestures, and his surprisingly different personality compared to what he had thought it was, and Loki's eyes kept straying to those broad hands that touched him. The thing that most unsettled him was that the burn on his cheek seemed to be caused by the gaze Thor continuously gave him. The two bright blue eyes emanated invisible rays of heat directly onto Loki's cheeks as Loki saw from the periphery of his eyes while concentrating on - at least, _trying_ to concentrate - on the prof's lesson. Thor gazed at him from the side for so long that Loki's perturbation and curiosity finally won.

Loki turned to him at last, letting annoyance show on his face. "What is it?" he demanded.

Thor looked innocent. "What is what?"

"Is there something wrong with me that you've been looking at for so long?"

"Oh." For a fleeting moment Thor looked grave and seriously confused. He quickly recovered, however, so Loki half-believed that expression of bewilderment may have just been his imagination as the broad blonde face returned to its original charming smile. "Nothing. What is wrong with looking at a beautiful girl?" he answered with a rhetorical question, a rather dreamy look glazing over his face.

Loki nearly snorted aloud. "Never heard of anything so cheesy in my life," he muttered back, rolling his eyes. Thor sounded as though he was in love with Loki - no, Astrid. Haha! How ridiculous.

Wait.

Love?

...

No, that was impossible. _Beyond_ impossible, if that was possible. This time Loki did snort aloud. Some glances were shot his way, full of surprise and irritation and disgusted shock that such an unbecoming sound was scratched out so unreservedly from a girl's throat. Loki returned their looks with a nervous, apologetic one of his own.

Thor in love with _him -_ no, _her_?

Mild insanity _must_ be one of the side-effects of this crazy spell.

* * *

_Longest chapter so far. I just let my imagination spill...which resulted in a 2,000+ word section. Hope it wasn't too tedious to read. _

_Again, thanks for the reviews! I needed the confidence...especially with finals coming up..._


	6. A New Partner

Next day, Loki made his usual way to school, through the halls, into the classroom and to his desk. The routine, however, was broken by encountering an unknown presence sitting in his seat. A tall dark girl, noble of mien, her elegant features enhanced by two sharp eyes and a haughty expression that portrayed a character accustomed to being obeyed without question, sat like a territorial panther in Astrid's chair. Loki could almost imagine a tail swaying behind her as she eyed his approach suspiciously. Quickly, he glanced at Thor sitting next to her, and to his surprise, Thor looked tired and exasperated.

"Hello," said Loki to the girl uncertainly. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes," she purred, an unkind smile creeping up her sculpted cheeks. "You."

Loki stood there, silent, uncomprehending. What had he done?

"Sif, please," said Thor gently, though a little bit of frustration spilled through his wrongly stressed syllables. "This is Astrid's seat. Go back -"

"Oh, but it's better to sit with _me_." Her harsh tone made Thor purse his lips and he looked away, the skin under his usually bright eyes tense. Then she turned back to Loki, her eyes narrow with hostility. "Go sit somewhere else, dear. This is now _my seat._ You've been arrogant enough for two days."

"Sif -" began Thor.

She stopped him by leaning into Thor's torso, pushing her lean, heavily breasted body into Thor's arm, calculated to make him feel the bulging flesh. Gently caressing Thor's muscular arm with a lightly arched wrist, she breathed like a siren into Thor's ear, "Shhh, darling. _I_ can give you more fun than you've had for the past couple of days." Sif eyed Loki meanly behind Thor's shoulder. Thor was silent, and didn't protest at all.

Loki was disgusted, and partly saddened. He was disgusted at Thor for being so easily wooed by beautiful girls, and saddened because he still didn't completely understand what he had done and because Thor was, in the end, still the shallow player he had known him to be. Embarrassed, Loki was about to turn away to find another seat, when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

Fandral appeared by his side, his silver eyes illuminated by a moderate smile, unlike Thor's aggressive grin too thickly laden with testosterone and manly charm. "Do you need a seat, young miss?"

Loki smiled a little in relief. "Yes, please."

"I've got an empty one nearby mine. Come." He put his arm around Loki's narrow shoulders and guided the embarrassed new student away from the vixen and her prey. Loki took one last look at Sif, still pushing her female charms onto the frowning but resigned looking Thor, who, surprisingly, did not look as though he were enjoying her presence at all, and seemed desirous to be rid of her. Just a split second before Loki looked away Thor raised his eyes to Loki with the furrowed brows of sadness and distress. Loki was confused as to why Thor could be troubled, but Loki had already looked away, and did not plan on embarrassing himself further by looking back and giving the wrong impression of his wanting to stay in that seat.

Sitting down beside Fandral, Loki arranged his notebooks and stationery in preparation for class. One of his papers came loose and fluttered away from the desk. Loki stretched his arm, unable to use magic to call it back, but he was too late and too far; the paper flew like a frightened bird away from its owner, and landed three rows away.

He got up to retrieve it, but before he put one step the paper suddenly floated up again, twirled twice in the air and gently slid into the outstretched fingers of Loki. He looked up, confused, because he knew he didn't use any magic. Fandral, however, sat smiling nonchalantly at Loki's bewildered expression with two long, thin fingers pointed towards the paper.

"You're welcome," he said.

"Th-thanks," replied Loki belatedly as he sat down. That Fandral was quite skilled in magic quite surprised him. Lifting something so delicate as a paper required much precision in the output of magic energy from one's fingers, let alone making it twirl in the air and sliding it exactly where one wanted it. The gleaming silver eyes and sharp look of Fandral gave Loki a new sense of reverence. Thor, that feather-brained lover-boy, all brawn and no brain, couldn't do that. Perhaps the new seating arrangement was best for both sides.

There was, nonetheless, a very faint, very vague twitch of unpleasantness in the back of his mind.

But before the twitch could be analyzed, a professor strolled into the class and it was soon forgotten.

That day, the class assignment was a co-written essay with a desk partner. Loki breathed a sigh of relief and became even happier that Sif had asked him to sit elsewhere as he realized who it was he could have worked with. Fandral proved to be more than resourceful, able to meld a wide range of information together with prodigious ingenuity and possessing a green thumb for planting the perfect words in the perfect places. During the assignment Loki and Fandral made in-depth conversations about the topic they were studying, a newfound respect swelled in Loki's breast for his new acquaintance. Also, whenever Fandral looked at Loki in the eye, his strange, depthless silver irises piercingly direct, Loki did not feel the uneasiness and anxiety he did under the gazes of Thor. Thor couldn't give him something like that. He felt comfortable around Fandral, who was kinder than Thor, smarter, more comfortable to be around with -

Loki stopped, confused. Why was he always comparing Fandral to Thor, not the other way around? Fandral was a different person.

So he flushed Thor from his mind, and concentrated on his task with Fandral. For the rest of the day, his time was thick with interesting conversation and discussion with Fandral, exchanging clever word plays, finding new information and discovering new levels to the intelligence of his desk partner. It wasn't something he could do with Thor.

There was another slight twitch in his heart.


	7. Bad Luck

He was halfway through the week. It was his fourth day of being a girl, and besides knowing Fandral better, there wasn't much he thought he would miss once he returned to his normal form. The half hour spent every morning braiding his long hair would not be mourned; his inability to see over people's heads would not be weeped for; and the sudden attraction of men's attention (there were quite a few who tried to obtain his acquaintance recently) was something he would gladly do without.

Entering the school once again as Astrid, books on one hand, a bag on the other, Loki stepped through the gilded hallways and marble floor, mentally preparing himself for another day. The students around him seemed a little louder and more excited than usual, especially the girls, who chatted gibberish at rocket speed among themselves like baby chicks fighting for food. The boys, although not that much more talkative, had strange grins on their faces, some of embarrassment, others of arrogance. Because Loki didn't belong to any of the groups, he hadn't a single clue as to the cause of all the excitement, and he was too indifferent about it to eavesdrop. Without thinking too much, he entered his classroom.

As he headed towards his new seat besides Fandral, Fandral looked up and beamed a smile. "Yo, Astrid."

"Hi," answered Loki, returning a smile. "Do you know what all the excitement's about outside?"

"Excitement?" Fandral frowned, thinking. "Was there? I wasn't paying attention."  
"Oh."

"I was reading this. It's quite good." Fandral held up a brick of a novel with ruffled edges and crinkled black covers, on which the title_Crime and Punishment_ was etched in golden ink. "Although I find the protagonist too wishy-washy to like."

"Well," said Loki, sitting down beside him, "What could you expect him to do? He murdered someone, and he was probably afraid of the punishment. I think that's reasonable." Loki was impressed once again by Fandral's surprising depth of intelligence; _Crime and Punishment_ was not a novel for light reading. It required extreme patience and an extensive vocabulary.

"What I don't understand is why he's even contemplating confessing," said Fandral thoughtfully. "No one saw it, no one could possibly trace it to him. It's a perfect crime to walk away from without fears."

"But...isn't that morally wrong?" wondered Loki, puzzled at Fandral's strangely cold comment.

"Sticking with morals don't give you any points in society," he answered, smiling at Loki, "when you've done something irreversible."

Loki pursed his lips, a little disturbed by his way of thinking. Loki thought the protagonist was right in confessing his crime at the very end, because it was the right thing to do and it gave both the reader and the character a healthy peace of mind, but here Fandral was saying that a clean record held more weight than the state of one's conscience. Loki wondered what Thor would have said. Thor would probably -

He kicked himself. He was doing it again.

Why did Thor continually find random places in his mind to appear in? Having thought of him, Loki instinctively looked about for the brawny blonde school idol. There, by the window, staring straight back, were two blazing blue irises framed by long golden lashes. _Why is he looking at_ me_?_ Loki quickly averted his eyes, and felt an unexplainable blush creeping up his neck.

At that moment, Professor Heimdallr entered the room, and the chatter died away. His enormous stature and unworldly golden eyes as they swept the room commanded the attention of every student. Though no one ever saw him lose his temper, students felt that there was a volcano hidden behind the eternally taciturn expression.

"Class," he rumbled. "I have an announcement to make."

Some students began to chatter excitedly, in the same manner Loki had seen in the students in the morning. But the noise died down suddenly with a slight twitch of Heimdallr's eyebrow, as if choked by that tiny movement.

"Class," he repeated, "As is tradition for Asgard every autumn, we will be holding a ball in three days. It is not a mandatory event you must attend, and there is no fee for it. It is a public event; you may bring anyone you choose to the ball."

Oh, so _that_ was why the girls were so excited and the boys so nervous.

But Loki was still as nonchalant about it as he had been about the excitement he had encountered in the morning. He wouldn't be caught dead going to such an event, let alone in a dress even if he were a girl, when the time could be spent so much more wisely reviewing notes and enlarging his brain. As the girls giggled, making eyes to the boys they liked, and the boys ahemed-and-ahooed, working up their courage to ask out the girls they admired, the professor for once allowing such a ruckus in the classroom, Loki yawned and read his textbook. He was a nerd, he knew, but it would pay off in the future.

Classes ended that day rather early. He suspected that teachers knew their students were much too excited about the upcoming ball to focus on any lesson. Loki packed up his stuff and headed out alone, seeing that Fandral was engrossed in a conversation with a pal.

His endeavour to return home early failed, however, in bumping into Thor shortly after he exited the classroom.

"Astrid," he said, strangely tense and unhappy, "I need to talk to you." Without asking for his time, he grabbed Loki's hand, albeit gently, and headed towards a corner far from eavesdroppers.

"What?" asked Loki, annoyed.

Thor exhaled and closed his eyes momentarily, as if trying to compose himself. Then he said, "Astrid, are you...do you...what is Fandral to you?"

Suddenly, Loki felt incredibly, unabashedly, unreasonably irritated. "Why does it matter?" It was _such_ a random question.

"Just tell me." There was a note of desperate urgency in his voice, and somehow, Loki felt touched. He sounded almost as if he cared for him, and that wasn't a terrible thought.

"A friend. A good friend."

Thor sighed again, looking exhausted. Then he stared directly into Loki's eyes, his own blazing with fierce conviction, and he grabbed Loki by the shoulders, his large hands emanating the strength of a bull. "Astrid, don't hang out with that guy. He's not a good person."

Any tender feelings that may have arisen from hearing the note of desperation in Thor's voice immediately faded into nonexistence after hearing him malign a student whose grades were better than his. Unamused, Loki scowled, releasing any reservations about hurting Thor's feelings. He wasn't worth getting concerned over. "And who are you to tell me that? My father? Even he doesn't mind who I befriend." Well, that was because his father had no time for him, but that information didn't have to be mentioned.

"You don't understand," said Thor. Something sad, full of frustration and anxiety, fell briefly across his normally cheerful countenance, like a cloud passing over the sun, casting a short period of gloominess over the earth. "He's...you'll be hurt."

But Loki wouldn't be persuaded out of his decision. Now, it wasn't just Thor's unreasonable request that put him off; his audacity to command what even parents normally shied away from drenched Loki completely in a foul mood. And who was it that pushed him over a week ago and caused his transformation?

"No," said Loki bluntly. "You have _no right_ telling me what's right or wrong."

"But I _know_ him better than you -"

"I don't see you spending time with him as I have-"

"Then do you like him?"

"Again, why does it matter if I do?"

"It's just...to me, you are -"

"You can't even give me a proper answer? Why should I listen to someone without credibility -"

"Astrid, the truth is, I lik-"

Just then, Loki felt a light tap on his shoulder, and he gladly turned away from the increasingly hot argument. Although their voices were quiet and quite civil, it still rankled him to a near intolerable degree. "Yes?" he said eagerly to the distraction.

It was Fandral, flashing his silver eyes at Loki, giving no glance to Thor, as if the latter didn't exist. "Hi. You left so fast I didn't have time to ask you. Would you please go out with me to the upcoming ball?"

Loki was so shocked, so surprised, both by Fandral's unexpected presence and proposal, that he could do nothing as his mouth randomly chose one of the two answers to such requests.

"Y-yes."

Fandral smiled. "Thank you, Astrid." He gave Loki a brief hug. "You won't regret choosing me." Then he walked away with a cheerful wave.

Silence. A few minutes passed before he realized the extent of what he had done. He gasped.

What had he done?

For some reason, he turned to Thor, dreading the latter's reaction. But Thor wasn't looking at him; his eyes were cast down onto the floor, an expression of utmost melancholy and pain etched in the lines of his face, which seemed to elongate under the weight of the unfamiliar emotions. Thor looked so frustrated Loki was tempted to rub the dark lines away. It puzzled him exceedingly; he could think of no reason how anything could depress someone with so bright a spirit.

"Thor...?"

Thor looked up but didn't meet his eyes. Then there was a sudden flash of anger across his brows. "You should break that answer off this instance." Then, abruptly, he walked away, leaving Loki alone, confused and angry as well, in the hallway.

Loki closed his eyes as his heart once again began to throb.

He _hated_ being a girl.

In fact, he didn't think he'd miss anything at all once he returned to being a boy.

* * *

_**A/N: Ah! Sorry for uploading this again; I keep forgetting to type the comments! I'm so used to just uploading the document without writing anything below it...**_

_**But I need to add a comment. I really, really want to thank all the readers who follow this story, especially to the reviewers (special thanks to those who take the time to review every single chapter...Melissaur *wink wink*). Really, thank you, because you keep my imagination going.  
**_


	8. Eight Years Ago

Astrid had _no reason_ to like Fandral. _None._ Thor fumed. Anyone could see from Fandral's dull, shallow eyes and his sly way of talking the ugly personality that lurked just behind his fox-like face. Thor knew, from all the girls who came crying to him, how Fandral played with and tossed away pretty girls like a spoiled kid playing dolls. Rumours concerning his terrible behaviour had spread about, but there were still many victims.

Most of Fandral's victims were those who just wanted a fling with someone, but ended up falling deeply for his charms. Thor didn't believe Astrid was the type who hunted men for a fling. Somehow, he just knew her to be a frank, sincere person, a person whose loyalty, once gotten, would never waver; quiet, bookish, hard-to-get girls like Astrid usually promised strong, steady relationships.

Relationships? Thor cursed himself. He was absolutely despicable; he himself never kept any, so why should he talk so? Searching within himself, he still found a full reserve of love for Loki. The amount didn't diminish with the appearance of Astrid. Perhaps he loved Astrid because she reminded him of the thin, bookish boy he'd desperately fallen for eight years ago?

Eight years ago...

* * *

He was ten. He was playing ball with a couple of his friends in the big green field next to his house. Thor had created a game which perfectly allowed him to show off his physical strength. His friends could do nothing but follow, full of admiration for their proud, skilled leader. They were kicking a makeshift ball, made of leather stuffed with hay, to one another, and the one who could kick the farthest and make the next person run the most would be the winner.

It was a pretty childish game. But they were children.

During one of the kicks, Hogun poured as much energy as he could expend to show off to Thor. It flew quite far, and Thor, spiked with adrenaline at the thought of possible competition, ran towards the brown object like a jaguar, and grass and flowers bent sideways to make way for the young athlete. Dirt flew up to cheer him on. Dandelion fluff whizzed around excitedly. After a short while he finally reached the ball, and with a mighty swing of his calf he torpedoed the poor bruised fellow a mile into the blue sky, through five clouds, frightening migrating birds, down the air, into...into somewhere deep inside the forest.

"I'm not going in _there_," said Volstagg with immovable conviction.

So Thor had to go, partly because _he_ had kicked it, partly because he was the leader, and partly because he just wanted to show them what a bunch of wimps they were. They were adamant about avoiding the thick dark forest of mysterious creatures and strange nocturnal sounds. Thor, though a little scared, didn't show it, and marched bravely into the clutches of the gnarled trees.

The ball hadn't fallen too far. Thor pushed past enormous leaves and trudged through thick clusters of wild bushes in the vague direction of where he had seen the ball land. He traipsed for several minutes before he caught sight of the rather deformed ball stuck in a crevice at the top of a little cave, its yellow hay-guts spilling out in sad clumps. The cave was located at the bottom of a shallow but sharp ravine, and Thor inched himself cautiously down the loose dirt, fingers outstretched towards his object, willing his arm to grow a tad longer. It was a slow process.

At last, he reached it. He stood on his tipsy-toes near the bottom of the ravine's slope, straining his calves tight, and his fingertips scraped the surface of the tattered brown leather. Pinching his two forefingers together, he managed to obtain a tiny edge of a broken flap of leather. Deeming it sufficient, he tugged. It took several tugs to loose the ball - if it can still be called that - from the jaws of stone. However, on the final tug, he exerted more force than was necessary, and the excess caused his foot to slip from its position and he tumbled down, bashing into rocks, falling over the remaining bit of the slope into the cave at the bottom.

Dizzy and numb, he groaned back his senses as he propped himself into an upright position. Thank the gods he still had the ball in his hand to validate his feat to his friends. All he had to do now was to climb out. He looked up the steep slop, slightly daunted.

Then, a quiet, inhuman noise sounded within the black recesses of the cave. Thor turned around, unnerved. The absolute darkness that painted the innards of the cave revealed nothing, and Thor waited, hardly breathing in fear.

Suddenly, a pair of yellow eyes flashed open above him. Thor started, slowly backing away from the floating orbs, but they enlarged as they followed him towards of the opening of the cave. Soon the creature ventured beyond the tangible blackness of the cave where a few rays of sunlight that escaped through the emerald canopy of the forest bathed it into visibility, and Thor saw with terror that a monstrous bear loomed hungrily over him. It was at least twice his size, with crooked fur clumped in dark red patches in various places, enormous paws that gave way to wickedly long claws, a salivating tongue that hung over yellowed and browned teeth, and eyes that emanated a deadly hunger no living creature probably ever escaped. It snarled, spraying viscous saliva everywhere. Its crinkled snout gave Thor a fright he had never known.

It took him a few seconds to find his voice. Once he did, Thor screamed at the very top of his lungs for help and began to scramble as fast as he could up the ravine, completely indifferent now to how unmanly or undignified his high-pitched shouts sounded. Animal instincts conquered his senses and all he was focused on was survival. He couldn't - wouldn't - imagine himself a wad of pink flesh inside that crooked jaw; he had to climb up, he had to find footholds in the dirt, the falling dirt...he was slipping again...the bear was getting closer...he could see the glint of teeth...the swipe of the paw was an inch away from his head...could no one hear his screams...?...

A blinding flash of white light shot over his head into the eyes of the monster. A piercing shriek escaped from the throat of the bear and it stumbled backwards, apparently unable to see. It crashed clumsily into the rocks and then into the cave, where the bear's incredible weight, after colliding with the wall, cracked the stone and the entire cave collapsed onto the writhing monster.

Thor, midway up the slope of the ravine, his hands buried deep within the loose dirt, looked up to see who his saviour was. A thin figure whose face he couldn't yet see, because of the distance, stood at the edge. He - or she - extended another beam of white light towards Thor.

"Hold onto this," said a young boy's voice.

Without questioning his saviour, he tentatively touched the beam, skeptical that he could "hold onto" it. Its tangibility and inviting warmth surprised him, and happily he grabbed on as it began to pull him up.

Once at the top, he properly examined the boy who had saved him. And he was more than pleasantly surprised.

Much smaller and thinner than him, embodying a fragility rarely found even in the most delicate of girls, the young boy stood anxiously before him with a genuine look of concern etched in his exquisite features. His narrow shoulders were tense with worry, and they sloped gently up to a long slender neck, the skin fair as milk. Upon the narrow neck was a heart-shaped face, and Thor was amazed that anyone so beautiful and delicate could exist in this world. Porcelain skin, paler than snow, wrapped over a thin pair of cherry-blossom-petal-lips, sloping up a straight, symmetrical nose and caving in around two wide, breathtakingly emerald irises, more vibrant than the leaves of the trees around them. They were fringed by long, ebony lashes, and spoke of intelligence, sincerity, innocence and mystery.

And Thor was utterly, undoubtedly, irreversibly enchanted. It was a spell from which he would never escape, a spell that would become a permanent part of him.

"Are you all right?" asked the boy timidly.

Thor blinked and then blushed. "Y-yes."

"Oh, good." The boy smiled, his dimples dancing, and began to turn away. "Well, be careful next time -"

"Wait!" said Thor suddenly. "Um...what is your name?"

"Loki," the boy replied, smiling pleasantly. Thor wanted to touch the delicate face. "What's yours?"

Before Thor could answer, he heard his friends hollering his name with anxiety in the distance. They were calling with such desperate terror that Loki said, "Well, I best get going. We might meet again. Take care!" With a casual wave of his small hand, the small boy disappeared into the leaves of the forest.

Even when he finally emerged from the forest into the arms of his joyful friends, he couldn't get the image of Loki, his fragile saviour, out of his head. So beautiful...

But Loki was a _boy,_ and therefore it would never work out.

* * *

Did Thor like Astrid because she reminded him of Loki?

If that was true, then Thor had no right to tell Astrid who to and who not to talk to. Even though it tore his guts apart to recall that she had accepted Fandral's request right in front of him. If she, of the loyal type, reciprocated Thor's feelings, he would not only end up hurting her because it was not truly _her_ that he liked, but end all possibilities of ever getting to know _him_.

Before Thor thoroughly understood his own feelings, he decided that he would avoid her company.

* * *

_**Poor Thor. But that is some faith, eh? **_

_**THANKS SO MUCH TO THE READERS AND THE REVIEWERS AGAIN! Some of your comments are hilarious...it makes me glad that I decided to upload this XD  
**_


	9. Confusion and Sadness

Perhaps he was too harsh?

Loki had spent the whole night pondering about his relationship with Thor. It was more difficult than rocket science because at least in rocket science the answer could be logically derived from a series of clear-cut formulae and steps. Relationships involved feelings, and feelings could never be defined as logical. Loki couldn't even formulate what his first equation would be. He did try, though.

His main variable was _x_, which represented what their relationship was. There were no numbers with which he could create with _x_ a formula he could solve, so he had to use other variables. Therefore, let: _m_ be why Thor cared so deeply about his friendship with Fandral; _n_ be why Thor made his heart deviate from its regular pattern of beating every time he was near; _p_ be why Thor had given his heart splinters with that look of utter sadness; _q_ be Thor's abnormally high level of interest in him; _y_ be the amount of hatred Loki had for Thor, which, strangely, seemed to be diminishing lately; _z_ be the...be...

No, it was impossible. There were too many variables to keep track of, and possibly more of which he didn't know existed. No formula could be conjured and then solved when more than one variable was unknown, let alone with variables that weren't accounted for. Loki had to find some other means of solving this problem. Perhaps by logical deduction?

Let one begin with the last event between Thor and Loki. Thor had asked Loki to stop talking to Fandral. Loki retaliated by accidentally accepting Fandral in front of him. This led to Thor being hurt. Consequently, Thor's hurt had led to Loki's current agony. Loki was agonized because he knew he had been too rude for any proper excuse. However, Loki had hated him, so why was he now so aware of Thor's feelings? Some feeling of care for Thor must then be involved. This care must have a source, and the most likely one was Thor's persistent attention towards him. There were two possibilities of the cause for Thor's attention. One was that Thor was simply a player. But players did not chase after a single girl so persistently, let alone become provoked because of competition; players were called players because they played with people's emotions and, by definition, were "not serious". Therefore, there was only one other possibility. Thor was persistent and had gotten quite angry at competition, which were the opposite of what a player would do. Therefore he was the opposite of a player. And if Thor was the opposite of a player, then he was the opposite of "not serious". And the opposite of "not serious" was "serious". And serious meant...

No.

Loki laughed nervously. Perhaps logical deduction didn't work either. It must be flawed, for the answer made no sense, even if the steps leading to it did.

But no matter how many other deductions, formulae, equations, etc. he made, logical or illogical, he always arrived at the same conclusion. Again and again. It was not because he knew that the answer was wrong that he repeated his calculations and logical meanderings, but that he was afraid of accepting it.

If Thor loved him, Loki wouldn't know what to think. If Thor loved him, Loki knew he would be unbearably sad, but he didn't know why he would feel that way. The thought of Thor falling in love with Loki as he was hurt him badly, terribly, but why it would hurt? It seemed so strange, he couldn't even begin to search for the reason.

All these thoughts had run wildly around his head throughout the night before, for he contemplated heavily about his strange situation, and he came to school next morning none the brighter for his musings. The only concrete conclusion he had made was that he had been inexcusably rude to Thor and it was absolutely necessary for him to apologize. It was already the fifth day of his being a girl, so he felt the lack of time strongly. It was Friday, and the next time he would meet Thor would be on Sunday, the day of the ball. He had to find Thor as soon as possible. Loki didn't want to leave Astrid with any bruises to her reputation, even if she were imaginary.

During the school hours, in class, he hardly paid attention to the professors, whose lectures he'd already read years ago, and couldn't refrain from looking at Thor frequently. He hoped he could catch a glance and perhaps hint that he wanted a conversation, but to his dismay not once did Thor turn his way. The latter was animatedly engaged in various conversations with pals, buddies and girls, making Loki more desperate each progressive hour. Fandral also wondered aloud why he was so fidgety today, and Loki had to give an apologetic smile to dismiss his suspicions.

An opportunity opened up after classes ended. He hastily bade farewell to Fandral, whose puzzled look he didn't wait to address, and rushed out the door to find Thor. The tall blonde was a few feet away from him, setting out for home. Loki quickly closed the distance.

"Thor! Wait, Thor!" he called, breathlessly.

Thor turned. He had worn a smile, but upon seeing Loki's face it suddenly vanished, leaving, to Loki's bewilderment, an expression of frustration and fear. _Fear?_ thought Loki. But he brushed it aside from his mind and went straight to his point.

"Listen, Thor, I'm...about yesterday..." he began, flushing and glancing nervously at Thor.

Thor wore the same pained expression, silently waiting. The hallway in which they had chosen to talk was quiet, for there were no students around except the two of them, and the only sounds were the muffled steps and conversations of students in other parts of the school.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he continued. "I was...I was inexcusably rude to accept Fandral so directly in front of you when you warned me not to. But," he said, looking straight into Thor's troubled eyes to show his sincerity, "it wasn't out of spite! It was...it was so sudden so I didn't know what to do except -"

Loki stopped. Except what? Except that he was so surprised he accidentally said "yes"? That sounded so silly. Loki blushed deeply, unable to continue, and in his state of anxiety he began to play with his braid, running his fingers up and down the bumpy texture.

"Except what?" asked Thor.

What should he say? "Except..." Loki muttered, fidgeting his braid with more speed. "Except..."

"Except?" prodded Thor, furrowing his brows in what Loki took to be impatience.

It was too much. "Except you made me so nervous I accepted him without knowing that I did!" he blurted. Then he gasped, realizing what had just tumbled out of his impulsive mouth. His hand tortured his braid so much that it was literally becoming undone. Loki bit his lips. "I-I'm sorry," he quickly said, reddening and looking away, "Oh, just forget about what-"

Suddenly, Thor reached out and grabbed Loki's fidgeting hand in a firm but gentle grasp. Loki, taken off guard, stepped backwards and met the wall, with Thor following suit. Thor moved in and trapped Loki against the wall, and his thick arms, strong jaw, sculpted body, and especially his piercing, passionate blue eyes - strangely sad all of a sudden - were too close to Loki's own, too close. Loki could no longer tell if it was the heat of Thor's proximity or his own blood that created the tropical haze around his cheeks.

"Nervous?" asked Thor softly. "I make you...nervous?" He sounded unutterably sad and frustrated.

Loki swallowed, and couldn't find his voice.

"I'm sorry if I make you feel that way. Truly, I am. I simply..." For several seconds, Thor hovered mid-sentence, staring at Loki. Then, for reasons beyond godly comprehension, Thor traced a soft finger, gentle as a flower petal, down Loki's jaw to his chin, and then leaned in, closing the distance between their lips. Loki found that he had lost all cerebral connection to his muscles. His heart was beating like a hungry jaguar desperately chasing its prey. A crimson feeling of crazy passion blossomed within his chest. Nothing made sense anymore.

Then, when their lips were but a hair's breadth apart, the next words Thor said nearly stopped his heart. It was barely audible, but he still heard it.

"I care for you, Astrid."

All the feelings of wonder and passion that had been spreading throughout his body like wildfire extinguished as suddenly as a dream in the morning. All of a sudden Loki felt numb, but he didn't know why. He felt that a void had opened where his heart used to be, but he didn't know why. All he knew was that the minute after Thor had uttered those five words, tears began pouring down his cheeks like there was no tomorrow. It was so strange. He didn't feel as though he was crying, but there it was, the unfamiliar wetness on his skin.

At once, Thor leaned away from Loki, eyes as puzzled as Loki himself felt. The fingers that had held Loki's chin now moved up to wipe away the silver rivulets. Loki bowed his head in a vain attempt to hide his wet face, and Thor stepped away.

"I'm...I'm sorry," said Thor, quietly, his face pained. "I didn't realize how much you didn't like it. I'm sorry."

Thor walked away. Loki didn't stop him and stood there for a long while, furiously wiping away the tears, staring at the quivering drops of silver on his fingertips trying to understand the cause for their unexpected existence.

_I care for you, Astrid._

* * *

Loki was still standing there, puzzled and swollen-eyed, when Fandral came upon him. As usual, the latter announced his presence with a light tap on the shoulder.

"Hey there," said Fandral, smiling slightly. "Why aren't you home yet? I thought you'd be somewhere else since you rushed out so quick-" He stopped short once he saw Loki's eyes, and his smile fell, replaced by a rather blank expression of mild concern. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

Loki shook his head with a dismissive smile. "I'm...not sure either. Please don't worry about it." He squeezed a smile onto his face in hopes that it would turn Fandral away from the current subject. Fandral simply looked at him for a few seconds, seeming to wonder what to do, and then, to Loki's relief, changed the topic.

"Well, I hope you feel better. Have you gotten your dress yet?" he asked, brightening his face again. The silver in his eyes gleamed, making his eyes seem completely white save for a dot of black in the middle that was the pupil. It was a little unsettling, but right then Loki's thoughts were still too muddled to pay attention to it.

"Dress...?" echoed Loki, momentarily confused at the randomness of the word.

Fandral mirrored his look of surprise. "Dress, Astrid, dress! For the ball! Don't you have one? It's only a couple of days away!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Loki, the thought of the ball having completely slipped his mind. He contemplated his and his father's wardrobes for a little while, trying to recall whether his father had ever saved clothing that belonged to his deceased mother. There were so many closets, wardrobes and drawers in his home, however, that remembering if he had anything appropriate in his home for this school ball was downright impossible. He had to go home and check.

"I'm not sure yet," said Loki truthfully. "I need to go home and check."

"Because I was thinking...if you didn't, would you like me to accompany you to hunt for one? You're my date after all."

"Oh, right," acknowledged Loki, blushing slightly from recalling his incidence with Thor. "Well, I suppose if I don't find anything I'll...I'll give you a call."

"Okay," said Fandral. He laughed as he said, "but I hope you won't find any!" He squeezed Loki's shoulder's in a friendly gesture of farewell and left Loki alone again with his thoughts in the hall.

Fandral was a nice guy. He didn't make Loki feel as if every moment his emotions teetered on the edge of a great cliff, as if the slightest breeze would destroy the balance and cause his whole world to tumble into chaos. He felt controlled around Fandral. It was more than he could say about himself around Thor.

* * *

_**Yello! Thank you for reading this far! And thank you, my dear reviewers! It's your kind, fantastic words that keep me going! This story is indebted to you. :')**_

_**Poor Thor and Loki! I think their relationship has hit a mountain... :(  
**_


	10. A Rude Awakening

He ravaged all the possible locations of clothes in his mansion. There were so many rooms in his house he felt sure he would find something suitable for the upcoming ball, and he predicted correctly.

They were at the very back of his father's closet, which could easily fit ten elephants. Loki ran his fingers and eyes through all of twenty-seven clothing racks, feeling the rich fabric of Mr. Laufeyson's tuxedos, cloaks, suits, and overcoats, a little excited thinking that one day these would all become his, when he touched something different on the twenty-eighth rack. The form of the clothes was different here; they were soft at the shoulders and rigid at the waist, the opposite of what one would feel from touching a man's suit. On pulling one of the strange pieces of clothing out, he saw that it was a gorgeous, flowing gown that fit his size perfectly. He discovered that the whole of the the twenty-eighth rack, which ran ten meters long, was dedicated to his mother's dresses, and each dress was a priceless gem.

He found a deep emerald gown that flowed in silky waves from a petite waist down to the floor, and the fabric was pulled and fastened at the hip in such a way that the creases resembled ocean waves. The emerald silk gave off a brilliant sheen at certain angles under light, and it wrapped tightly around a simple yet elegant bodice that defined all the angles of a woman's lady in the most modest way. Loki didn't like flashiness, and this light, uncomplicated yet beautiful little gem matched his tastes exactly. Although it bared the shoulders, it was the most conservative of all that was available and the only green one, and since Loki loved the colour green, he laid it aside on a sofa for the next day.

Somehow, finding a dress relieved a weight from his heart he had not known he had carried. On closer inspection of his heart, he realized that having found a dress meant that he didn't have to go shopping with Fandral, the thought of which somehow gave him something unpleasant.

* * *

The next day opened ominously. Loki had forgotten to set the alarm, and awoke only half an hour before noon, which gave him less than two hours to prepare for the ball. Loki knew he couldn't be late because he had to leave the party before the evening; his spell ended today in the late afternoon, exactly a week from when he had first cast the spell, and he absolutely could not afford to transform back before he was beyond anyone's sight. And he only had four hours at best to enjoy his last moments being Astrid.

If only he had listened to Thor and refused Fandral's offer.

Loki blushed as he hastily did the make-up - his mother's unused supply, again found in the back of the closet - and his hair. If he had magic, he would be able to finish within minutes. When he finished in about an hour, he thought he looked quite decent for a girl. Quickly, he slipped on his dress and waited in the uncomfortable and restricting outfit at the door for Fandral's car.

A sleek, white car pulled up in front of his mansion. Loki walked - rather, stumbled - out of the entrance in his terrible heels, trudging across the long driveway towards a grinning Fandral opening the passenger door for his date. Fandral's grin pulled up Loki's cheeks into a smile as well.

"Hey there sweet," said Fandral, extending a hand to help. "You look gorgeous."

"Erm, thank you." Loki blushed. Being complimented by a guy was a little strange.

"Well, get in. Party's about to start."

Fandral zoomed his car through the roads towards the ball. When they arrived at the special ballroom entrance of their school, Fandral helped him out of the car with a gentleman's hand, the same hand with which he later laid on Loki's waist. To Loki's extreme discomfort he inched his hand lower and lower until it was right on his buttocks, but Loki was much too polite to object and held his complaints inside. Loki glanced around shyly, for it was his first time going to such an event, and then his eyes met Thor's.

Thor was, in simplest terms, absolutely dashing. His posture erect, his stature high, he represented the epitome of what every single girl in the school desired. He wore an ebony suit with a sleek, modern design that brought out all the attractive angles and curves of his muscles, broad shoulders and narrow waist, a crimson shirt inside that perfectly complemented his slicked-back blonde hair, and his overall appearance would have been that of a prince if not for his terrible, dark expression.

Loki gasped and averted his glance, believing for a moment that the target of the gaze was himself. A second glance corrected his assumption; the murderous gaze was shooting invisible sparks at Fandral, who obliviously laughed and conversed with the people around them. Loki's heart pumped quite rapidly and blood rushed to his face as he realized that he himself might be hated by Thor because he had chosen to be with the latter's most despised enemy. Somehow, that depressed him. A lot.

He didn't have time to dwell on his feelings, however. Fandral, with his hands still low on Loki's bottom, guided them into the building, where beautiful decorations of various golden and sparkling colours ornamented the gorgeous hall, already crowded with people.

The ball had already begun.

They walked over to the snack table and grabbed a couple glasses of ambrosia, downing one or two small but exquisite-looking pieces of desert. Then they hit the dance floor, and for two hours Loki was lost within a sea of people, a cornucopia of euphonious music, rubbing against the rough arms of Fandral, who, sometimes, to Loki's slight irritation, grabbed and caressed parts of Loki's body that would usually elicit from girls a strong desire to slap. But since Loki had nothing against Fandral, and couldn't feel embarrassed because he was, after all, a boy, he kept silent.

Some time after two and a half hours they made their way back to the snack table. Both were sweating and panting and drank several glasses of water. Then one needed to urinate.

"I'll be right back," wheezed Fandral, grinning foolishly, the excitement of dancing still thick in his blood. Loki nodded and Fandral disappeared into the crowd.

Loki stood there for a while, wondering what to do. He hadn't seen Thor all evening, which was a fine thing indeed. He wouldn't have known how to act with Fandral beside him except blush like a ripe apple. At the thought of Fandral, he realized that his own bladder was filled to the brim and desperately needed relief. Putting down his glass with a grimace, he too slipped through the happy crowd towards the washroom signs.

But he went into the wrong washroom.

Even after a week of being female, he still felt it against his most primal instinct to begin suddenly to do what society had strictly forbidden him from doing because of his gender. He didn't realize his mistake until he heard male voices halfway through the convoluted passage that usually made the entrance of a public washroom. Quickly he pivoted on his heels and was about to rush out quietly, unseen, when he heard Fandral's voice, sounding a lot ruder than usual.

"...tupid and easy," said Fandral's voice.

Loki's curiosity was piqued. What was stupid and easy? Though Loki hated eavesdroppers and gossip and rumours, he couldn't help it in this case.

Another voice echoed around the walls. "Yeah? You think you can lend her to me for a few? She's pretty hot."

"Hey back off, I haven't finished with her. When I get bored I'll give 'er to you, free."

Who were they talking about? Loki wondered, completely without a clue. They sounded rather mean.

"Free? Seriously, man? Why so cheap?"

"She might look all cold and hard-to-get and all, but I've never been able to touch a girl's junk so easily. She's so freaking easy to get. Not worth much," said Fandral's voice. They both guffawed, and the sound was unusually disturbing, grating on Loki's ears.

"What's her name again?" asked the other man, still laughing.

"Astrid."

Involuntarily, Loki gasped as his heart imploded a little. _Him_? But the only reason he let Fandral touch him was because he thought it was accidental, and because he didn't want to upset Fandral. Fandral, who had been so nice to him. How could he say such a cruel thing? And why? "Easy"? "Stupid"? "Cheap"? That was too much. It pained him to realize he had misplaced his trust, that he had been cheated, and that he should have listened to Thor. Oh, Thor. Thor had known the truth. Perhaps he should have been with Thor this whole time. And to think that he might have ruined any potential for relationships with Thor forever...

He felt a sharp sour sting shoot through his noise, the pain of which unfailingly preceded tears. Loki needed to escape, quickly, but unfortunately in his haste his heels caught on the hem of his long dress and he crashed loudly against the wall. Instantly, the guffawing within in the bathroom stopped. A short silence followed, then footsteps began making their way towards Loki. But Loki couldn't flee; he was frozen with fear.

At the last minute he turned, and met Fandral's cold, shallow eyes. The change in Fandral's face was frightening; he seemed a completely different person. His silver eyes were wide with surprise, but soon they narrowed as his face twisted into a grotesque sneer.

"Look at you," he spat, "eavesdropping. Sorry, bitch, but I'm going to have to speed up our relationship."

Then he lunged at Loki.

* * *

_**How scandalous! :O Fandral seems to have planned something terrible for Astrid...the next chapter will be the climax to the relationship problems between the three main characters. Please stay tuned, and thank you for reading this far!**_


	11. Goodbye, Forever

Loki backed up against the wall as Fandral leered towards him, his enormous hands stretched towards Loki's all-too-weak body. Whimpering, Loki tried to turn and flee, but Fandral was faster and, catching both of Loki's arms with one hand and his neck with the other, slammed him roughly into the cold tiles behind him. His legs were planted firmly on Loki's sides, rendering the latter's limbs completely immobile. The grip on the neck tightened while Fandral hovered his twisted face a few inches away from Loki's own. Loki choked a little.

"I have to admit you're pretty desirable," he hissed. "But not enough, or else I would have seriously wanted you as my own. Not that I care, since you know what I'm really like, and you don't seem to like the real me all that much." All the while the hand on Loki's neck slid down across his collar bone and slowly down onto his breasts, tight and inflicting much pain. Loki grimaced, which caused Fandral to squeeze even tighter.

"All I want now is to get my revenge on Thor." Fandral swore heavily. "He stole all my girls, and he isn't sorry for it at all. After they get to know him they all seem to hate me, and I want to make him pay. He seems to like you the most, and I'm going to ruin him by ruining you." Fandral began to lean in.

Loki fought, squirming in his grip, but his female body lacked in strength so pitifully that Fandral didn't even blink from Loki's struggles. Their lips collided, and it hurt. Fandral's tongue and lips were rough, not at all courteous, and Loki even felt teeth. The feeling was so utterly, ineffably, disgusting, that a couple tears escaped from his eyes. He felt so helpless. It was all so wrong. If he had magic Fandral would be a pile of ashes on the floor right now, and so would his friend. If he were physically a boy right now he could at least make a slight dent in Fandral's grip. If only...

If only he had Thor...

_Thor, please...save me..._

By some miracle, Fandral suddenly flew off from Loki, crashing with a cracking thud onto the floor. Loki gasped for air and his arms automatically flew to his chest and face for protection, even though the danger was over. He couldn't help trembling in fright, and for a few minutes his world was completely blank. But his senses soon returned to him. And he saw, with surprise, Thor standing a few feet away from him, looking down at Fandral as if the latter was a murderer. Thor had knocked the wits out of Fandral's friend, but Fandral was yet hovering on the edges of consciousness. He still wore a creepy sneer despite the rivers of blood gushing across his face, and Thor stomped towards him, his fists balled into iron clubs. Loki had never seen anyone so angry. Thor's expression belonged to that of a murderer.

"Stop, Thor!" Loki cried, and ran towards him. "Stop," he said more calmly as he put his arms around Thor's tense arms. "Don't _kill_ him."

Thor stopped. He turned his bright blue eyes, blazing with fury, onto Loki, but at the sight of Loki - or, Astrid, though Loki with unexplainable sadness - they died down and the veins on his skin slowly disappeared. He stood up slowly, pulling Loki up with him.

"Let's go to the balcony."

They made their way back out through the partying crowd and onto the balcony on the second floor. The refreshing cool wind caressed their sweaty skins, and for a while they simply stood there, side by side, alone, as birds chirped and the sun lit the sky bright blue.

Thor was the first to break the silence. "Are you all right, Astrid?"

Loki nodded. After another bout of silence, Loki said, "I'm sorry, Thor."

"For what?"

"For disbelieving you. I wish I'd listened." Loki waited for Thor to begin lecturing him and boasting about his prescient powers, but instead, Thor said, "Not your fault, Astrid. He can be pretty charming when he wants to. A lot of girls fall prey to him, and I don't blame you for turning to him after I'd been such a jerk. Although I did find you kind of weird for liking a boy who nearly killed you with his scissors."

Loki laughed a little, and Thor's face seemed to light up as well. The heavy mood now overcome, Thor and Loki made light conversation, and the latter was surprised at the ease with which they could exchange words, and how well each seemed to understand the other. Inside his heart, Loki felt a little regretful that he finally began to know Thor only in the last couple of hours of his spell. After the spell disappeared, they would have to be strangers once again, and the thought of never being able to speak to Thor hurt, and it hurt even more to think that Thor would never know who Astrid truly was.

"So you're going back tomorrow?" asked Thor.  
"Yeah," he answered. He took a peek at Thor, and melted a little as he realized how handsome Thor was with the sun highlighting his golden hair. His heart ached again. "I guess this is our last day together. It was good knowing you. I hope that you won't forget m-"

Thor suddenly pulled him into a hug. Thor laid one hand on the back of Loki's head, the other on his waist, squeezing quite tightly, his embrace full of passion and warmth. Loki, mute with shock, stood there wrapped in his strong yet gentle arms, blushing as he took in the earthly scent of Thor's body and feeling the sculpted angles of his muscles, but he wondered why Thor trembled a little.

"Thor?" he asked, softly into Thor's golden hair. "What is it?"

Thor whispered back, "Let's stay like this for a while."

Loki wouldn't have minded spending eternity in this position. He really liked the comfort of Thor's presence. So for quite a while they stood there, while the music, muffled, boomed inside.

Then Thor pulled away, but only by a few inches so that his face was close and directly in front of Loki's while his hand slid to Loki's right cheek. "Astrid, you sure you're all right from Fandral?"

"Yes, of course," said Loki, confused. Didn't they already have this conversation?

"Because you seemed to like him and-"

"Oh, no no!" Loki quickly corrected him. "I didn't, and I don't. I just thought he was nice and-"

Loki was cut off by an unexpected pair of soft, dry lips on his own. Unlike Fandral, who had intended to inflict pain, Thor was all gentleness and tentative passion, bumping lightly their lips together until Thor seemed sure Loki was fine with it. Then, he pushed a little deeper, and their lips melted together like butter on baked bread. For Loki, it was so sweet, so tender, the gentleness so caring that it made him finally realize what he should have a long time ago.

He _loved_ Thor.

Thor stopped for breath, and pulled away slightly. They stared into each other's eyes, both hearts beating with excitement because of this remarkable moment.

"That was to erase what Fandral did to you," breathed Thor, "And because I love you..."

Loki's heart swelled with happiness...

"..._Astrid._"

...and then it burst like a thin balloon being struck with a needle. Loki felt his face fall and the tears began to well again. _Now _he knew why it hurt so badly whenever Thor exposed such feelings towards him. It wasn't because Loki hated him or because he was surprised; no, far from it. It was because it wasn't _him_ Thor was in love with. It was a girl, an imaginary one, and Loki wanted to curse himself for ever feeling happy about loving Thor. His feelings would never be reciprocated, because never would Thor fall in love with a boy.

Thor saw the change in Loki, and let him go. The cold that replaced the warmth on the parts of his skin Thor had touched was astonishingly sharp, but Loki bit his lips to keep his tears from falling. He would not look stupid on his last day with the man he finally knew he loved, and deeply.

"Astrid," said Thor, sounding pained. "Why is it that you look so sad every time I'm near? What have I done? Did you...hate it so much?" he asked, quieting his voice at the end.

"No, no it's not that." He hated the way his voice sounded too high.

"Then why? How do you feel about me?" Thor's eyebrows were furrowed with genuine concern and worry.

"I...I do like you. Very much," Loki managed, finally. He looked into Thor's blue eyes as he said it. But as the blue eyes relaxed in relief Loki looked away quickly, because he couldn't keep the contact for long, feeling terribly guilty that he had lied to Thor all this time and that the girl Thor loved didn't exist at all, and that it couldn't be Loki; it couldn't, and would never be, Loki.

"Then why do you look so sad?"

"Because..."

Loki couldn't finish. He couldn't say, "Because I love you too much, and you me, but you do not love the real me." So he turned tails and ran back into the ball room, trying to exit through a less populated passage in case the tears wanted to rush out, one of which was already trailing down his cheek. He heard faint callings of his female name behind him, in that lovably deep voice, but he couldn't - wouldn't - stop. It was too painful.  
But Thor, a born athlete, caught up in little time and grabbed onto Loki's wrist with a firm grip.

"Astrid, _please_. I won't get to see you again. I need to know what's wrong." His voice was soft, pleading. Loki bit the bottom of his lips, breaking skin, tasting the bitter iron that leaked out of the wound, unable to speak.

"At least _look_ at me." Thor twisted him around with a maneuver of his arms Loki couldn't counter. They stared at each other in the eyes for a while, one waiting for the other to speak, the other completely unable to trust his voice in case tears betrayed him. Loki didn't want to see Thor so pained, but he didn't want to hurt him further by revealing the truth. Thor would hate him and be disgusted. Loki couldn't bear that. So he just stayed silent, looking into the blazing blue of Thor's irises, praying that Thor might soon let go.

A sharp silver glint hovering behind Thor's shoulder caught Loki's eyes. As he squinted, he saw in horror that it was the tip of a blade, jagged and nasty, tapering upwards to a long black handle held by a bloodied hand which Loki realized, with progressive fear, as it hovered nearer, belonged to Fandral, whose bloodshot crazed eyes were fixated on Thor's head.

Everything that happened afterwards was instinct. "Thor, _move_!" Loki shoved Thor as hard as he could, using his entire body weight. In his shock Thor easily submitted to the unexpected force, stepping sideways, but Loki himself, unfortunately, replaced Thor's position and the sharp blade lodged itself into Loki's flesh instead, right below the collar bone. Then, Fandral pulled the knife out in a crude movement, tearing the flesh apart a bit more, splashing blood onto the floor.

"Astrid! _No_!" cried Thor.

Loki gasped. Pain coursed through his body like lightning, and his sight flashed white. He choked, but the movement hurt so much he bent over, clutching his wound - a deep, long crimson gash along his collar bone - as he waited in vain for the pain to subside. For a moment he was mute, deaf and blind in a vortex of blood and white flashes, trapped in a never-ending circle of terrible, all-consuming agony. Little by little, it dulled, and his senses returned through small fragments of sound and colours.

The first coherent fragment was Thor's worried voice. "...Can you walk? Astrid?"

Loki couldn't speak yet, and so nodded his head.

"We need to get out of here, before the commotion finds us. Come on. Are you sure you can walk?" Thor wrapped a supportive arm around Loki's waist and gently guided him forward.

Loki took a step. But the pain of wearing heels finally surfaced. His calf strained beyond its limit, his leg convulsed and buckled, twisting sideways and audibly spraining his ankle. He exhaled sharply.

"_Wretched heels,_" he muttered to himself.

Thor heard. As quick as lightning but gentler than a mother to her child, Thor placed one hand behind Loki's knees, the other on his back, and swung him up into a rather romantic carrying position, like a Prince carrying his Snow White.

"Th-Thor, what-" Loki stuttered, blushing, his pain momentarily forgotten. The sensation of seeming to float in the air, supported by two limbs not of his own, was more than a little unsettling, especially when those limbs belonged to the one he loved.

"Hold on," said Thor, smiling. "I'll get you out of here, don't worry."

The hallway, where a crowd had gathered around Fandral and a couple of professors, who were called to investigate while Loki had been senseless from the pain, sped past his eyes, along with the ball room, the entrance door and then the steps leading towards the school as Thor ran towards an empty taxi. The calm rate at which Thor was breathing showed that Loki's weight barely registered on Thor's brain.

They reached the taxi, and Thor sat inside with Loki still in his arms. Even after Loki told the taxi driver his address, Thor refused to let him go.

"Why?" asked Loki quietly. He was afraid his blush might never leave.

"What do you mean?" replied Thor, smiling kindly. "It's our last day together. I love you, Astrid."

Again. It was Astrid, not Loki.

The tears he had withheld for so very long finally burst through. They flowed in rivers down his nose, his cheeks, dripping onto his bloodstained dress and the hands of Thor. His throat made strange noises, his voice convulsing like that of a dying rodent, and he knew his face was probably scrunched rather unbecomingly. It was so embarrassing. But he couldn't stop crying. There was a shrapnel lodged within his heart, making every beat excruciating, as though something vital had been ripped out of his chest; Loki never thought that the contents of a love song could be so true. Thor holding him so close, brushing his wet, sweat-stained hair aside from his face made his crying worse. _Loki_ was an unnecessary presence here. Thor liked _Astrid_, not _him_.

"Astrid, Astrid," whispered Thor. "Does it hurt that badly? Are you sure we shouldn't go to the hospital?"

"I...I'm fine. B-brother L-Loki's coming home...today...he can f-fix me..." Loki managed. It hurt so much. Thor thought he was Astrid. He had lied to Thor, and now it came back to bite him. Where was the hatred Loki first bore, and how did it turn into such a painful love? He silently prayed for the taxi driver to go faster; his time as Astrid was running out, and he didn't think he could bear this situation for very long.

As considerate as he was gentle, Thor silently let Loki cry to his aching heart's content. He placed a comforting hand on Loki's head and nudged it into the warm crook of his neck, where Loki gratefully rested his wet, shuddering cheek against Thor's collar bone. With his free hand, not the bloody one clutching his wound, Loki grasped onto Thor's shirt for mental support. For a long time the tears continued to flow. But as they neared his house his sobs gradually subdued, and as they arrived he was only plagued by the occasional hiccup.

"We're here," announced the taxi driver.

Loki glanced with his swollen eyes at the time displayed near the car's dashboard. As soon as the little numbers registered on his brain, his mind imploded and his face blanched.

_Only two minutes until his spell disappears._

"I...I need to get home quickly," said Loki hastily to Thor. "I'm already late. M-my brother's going to be mad..."

"Oh, okay," said Thor. With surprising agility for his bulk, Thor emerged from the taxi with Loki still in his arms. The entrance to his mansion stood several feet away, and because a flight of steep stairs was involved, Thor decided by himself to carry the injured Loki to the door himself. Gently, Thor set Loki on his feet.

Loki probably had less than a minute now to enter his house and disappear from Thor's sight. With hands shaking with impatience and fear that Thor might be exposed to the ugly truth he managed to open the door, and swiftly, he crossed the threshold. He turned around to say one last farewell.

"Thank you...for everything," said Loki, trying to smile. The pain in his chest was still very fresh and raw. The clear, deep blue eyes that stared back at him with such concern and care as he had never been shown all his life, the noble mien of Thor's face, carved a blazing, permanent image into his mind and his heart, and though it burned like crazy, Loki wanted never to forget the face of his first, and perhaps his only, love.

"May I see your brother?" asked Thor tentatively. "If it's not too much of a bother..."

"Oh." Loki felt a little nervous. How would he get out of this one? "Well, he...he's just come back from a long trip, so he's probably resting right now, and..."

"Then that's fine," said Thor quickly. "I had a good time knowing you."

A light, tingling sensation suddenly began at his toes, and, slowly, climbed his legs. The spell was wearing off now; Loki could feel it and he was anxious to close the door, but he wanted to see Thor as long as he could. "Yes, I'm glad to have known you as well." The sensation filled his entire torso now.

"I...I love you," said Thor, looking hopelessly sad.

"I love you too." The tingling was spreading faster now, and it coursed through his arms, head and fingertips. "Goodbye." Looking directly into Thor's eyes one last time, he shut the door, and leaned against it, feeling the tears welling up again behind his eyelids. Behind the door he could hear Thor whisper, barely audibly, "Goodbye." Fading footsteps followed. Loki thought now he had lost Thor forever, and the tears began to flow again.

The tingling sensation had disappeared. From a quick look into the mirror hanging on the wall beside him Loki saw that he had returned to his original self, his hair shorter and his body taller - though surprisingly his mother's dress still fit perfectly. He changed clothes and set about healing his wounds and mending the dress with the magic that had returned to him. Because he was so weak, after he had mended the dress, healed his sprained ankle, he could only heal his shoulder wound half way, and so a long dark line of scab remained after he had depleted his entire supply of magic. But he left it at that; as long as it wasn't bleeding, and as long as it could be hidden by clothes, there was no need to do anything further.

As long as he never thought about Thor, he was fine.

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_**Sorry for the long delay...I was on vacation to that most beautiful place in which Loki and Thor were last seen: New York City! I hope the length of this chapter compensates the impatience I've put some of you through. Thank you for sticking with this story! Your kind words mean the world to me. :) **_

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_**A/N: Ach! I'm sorry for that typo! I read it twice over before uploading...and I can't believe I missed that elephant of a mistake! Thanks so much to **_**pointyearsrule**_** and **_**segagenny**_** for pointing that out. (Gosh, you people are close-readers...*stress*) **  
_


	12. Turmoil

When Astrid apologized about accepting Fandral right in front of Thor, and confessed that her rash actions were because _he_ had unnerved her, Thor wanted to gather her trembling body into his arms and prove to her that he could be someone she could trust. He cared a lot for her, and knowing that she feared him saddened him.

When Thor leaned in towards Astrid, after her apology, because her enormous eyes, her blushing cheeks and her open lips seemed to invite a kiss, he was overcome by tender passion and his true, raw feelings for her spilled out without a chance for him to process them. He then confessed, without recalling his circumstances. He remembered that she had, for a moment, looked beautifully happy because of his words, and his chest bloomed with hope. But for some strange, incomprehensible reason he couldn't fathom, the light in her eyes suddenly dimmed, her lips closed and she began to cry. The tears wounded his heart, not because they implied rejection, but because he knew it was he who had created her sadness. And he couldn't stand that he, the one who loved her most, had hurt her, and didn't even know why. He had only told her that he cared for her, but perhaps she didn't want to hear it. So he left her, understanding that his presence was injuring her.

When he first saw Astrid step out of the car, slender in a gorgeous, shimmering gown, elegantly conservative yet hinting at the curves of her body, he knew that he stared beyond the limits of propriety, grinning like a fool, but when he saw Fandral with his arm lewdly placed on Astrid's back, Thor wanted to fling himself at that devil and wring the life out of that corrupted body. How could Fandral have no shame in putting on a mask to hide such an ugly nature? Fandral only wanted sex, and if it were good, he kept the girls for a little while longer. If it were bad, he ruined them for wasting his time. Thor couldn't stand seeing innocent girls being treated in such a way, and after consoling them they inevitably stopped going to Fandral. Thor was absolute in his resolution to prevent such a revolting fate to befall his innocent Astrid.

During the ball, careful to be out of Astrid's sight, he spent some dull hours chatting with his friends, but his mind constantly whirred back to Astrid. He had wanted to ask her to be his date. They were supposed to be together. Glancing into the dancing crowd, he saw Astrid smiling as she rubbed against Fandral, and what little remained of Thor's heart crumbled into bleeding dust.

But at one point during the ball he heard Loki call out his name. It was strange; the voice was in his mind, but it sounded so desperate and clear that he knew it must be real, that it couldn't have been a mental trick. He followed the voice, so sad and anguished, to the bathroom, where he found Astrid nailed to the wall in a torturous position by a hungry Fandral. Thor had never felt so much lust to kill when he tore the beast from the poor, shaking girl; he didn't even wonder why it was Loki's, not Astrid's, desperate voice that had led him to Astrid. He really could have destroyed the monster had Astrid not calmed him with her serene emerald eyes.

Then, out on the balcony, he made Astrid cry, again. He cursed himself. But this time, he didn't leave. This time, he needed to know why. He knew too painfully well that this was their last day together, so he didn't dare part ways before resolving such an enormous problem. Had his kiss been too forward? But he hadn't been able to hold back...he'd been holding back for too long...and this was the closest he could come to realizing the dream he'd had for eight years...

Thor had thought about it a lot since he had last made her cry. Did he love her, or Loki he saw in her every expression, every move? With more introspection than he had ever done before, he realized that he still loved Loki as much as ever, but he loved Astrid with equal fervor. They were too similar, not just in appearance. He loved her incredible mixture of expressions, her shy gestures, the soft inflections of her voice, her intelligence, all of which had caused Thor to fall in love with Loki eight years ago, and so Thor knew that it wasn't just because of the physical likeness to Loki that stole his heart. After he finally said those three words, he felt strangely whole, as if he didn't love two different persons, but one.

When Astrid took the knife for him, Thor had never felt as much pain as he did then. Seeing her hunched, the pale blush gone from her white cheeks, hurt because Thor had been oblivious to his surroundings, made him wonder if he was truly good enough for her. After calling a couple of professors to tend to the psychotic Fandral, he quickly scooped her up in her arms - she weighed surprisingly little - and he brought her, as she insisted, not to the hospital but to her own home, where she said her own brother would be available to heal her less expensively than a doctor. At the mention of Loki, his heart jumped a little. Will he be able to talk to him, at last?

But he cursed himself for such a shameful thought. What could he hope to achieve? Why was he still clinging onto any hope of bonding with Loki? He remembered Astrid's smiles, and he knew he would never forgive himself were they to crumble because of his stupidity.

Throughout the car ride, as Astrid poured sadness through her eyes, he himself cried with anguish inside. He was to part with her, most likely forever. Why was his life so unfair? The one he loved he was close to yet could never talk to. The one he could talk to will now become forever distant.

On Astrid's porch, he wanted to give her one last, farewell kiss. He nearly did, leaning close enough to her hair to touch it with his lips, but an image of her tearful face flashed in his mind, and he withdrew, because he didn't want to part with tears staining their last memory together. Instead, he let her walk inside, and was content with a verbal farewell. And when she turned around to close the door, he thought he saw Loki standing in her place instead, staring back at him with sorrowful eyes. It was so strange, and in his shock he couldn't reply fast enough before she closed the door on him, forever.

Was it his imagination? It must be. Maybe he still hadn't gotten over seeing Loki in Astrid.

"Goodbye," he whispered to the door, and left.

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_**I could only squeeze a short chapter on Thor this time...sorry! There was a lot going on for me this week.**_

_**I can't say this enough, and that is that your reviews are seriously spoiling me. Thank you all for liking**_**Fateful Spell.**_** I'm a little sad that it's going to end very soon :'(**_


	13. Sweet Revelation

Everything returned to normal the next day, the "normal" that Loki had known before he was Astrid.

Well, except for his broken heart. He had cried all night last night, and he didn't think anything could squeeze another tear from him, his tear-well was so completely dried up. The wound gave him such an endless reserve of pain that not even time could probably heal the gash on his heart. Loki was afraid of seeing Thor; the sight of the man he loved but could never have might tear his already-crippled heart so much further apart that it was not unreasonable to fear its stopping to beat altogether. The only thing he could do was to avoid him. He knew there was little chance Thor would talk to him, for they had never exchanged a single word before the miscast spell, and what reason was there now for Thor to say anything?

At school, every sight of red induced his heart into a state of hyperactivity, every tap on his shoulder made him jump and any wisp of Thor's voice impelled him to run in the opposite direction. However, he hid these signs of anxiety like a champion, and attended his classes with the same indifferent air he had before.

Almost everything was fine in class, except that every once in a while, Loki saw in his peripheral vision that Thor would turn and stare at him. Loki had the unreasonable notion that perhaps his secret was found out, and for the rest of the class his imagination tripped wildly over all the possible feelings Thor might be having for him, none of which were favourable to Loki's conscience.

_What if Thor hated him for it?_

Loki would die if that was true. But Loki didn't want to know what was true lest the answer hurt, and so he decided that he would avoid Thor as much as he could.

However, such a plan only works if the second party was unaware of the first party's existence. For some strange reason that Loki only interpreted as some cruel trick of Fate, several times Thor walked towards Loki in class during class breaks. And though each time he was interrupted by a neighbor student, tackled by a close friend or distracted by a beautiful girl, each time Loki nearly hyperventilated as he cudgelled his brain to conjure up some plan of escape. When school ended, Loki thought he was saved, his heart beating fast with relief.

He was wrong.

As he exited the school, he heard - his ear was now so sensitive to the unique frequencies of Thor's voice he could pick it up anywhere, even from within the loudest of crowds - his name called by the school idol. His blood froze in fear and anxiety. Had he been found out? What was he going to do? Hopefully, he was far enough away from Thor to feign deafness, and Loki began to jog.

The voice, however, did not give up. "Loki!"

He ran faster, more than a little afraid now. He imagined a monstrous, red-eyed beast with salivating fangs chasing him, and his heartbeat quickened, releasing adrenaline into his blood. He could not face Thor. He could not.

"Loki!" The voice was, to his dismay, much closer now. Thor, after all, possessed more physical power. "Loki, wait!"

Loki stopped. The voice sounded so close he could no longer pretend that he didn't hear without being rude. He stood there, his back against the loudening footsteps, mustering up as much courage as he could, before he turned around to face his pursuer.

Thor was, not surprisingly, still breathing normally after the chase. Loki couldn't help noticing all the beautiful features on Thor's noble face without feeling his heart twisting up like the legs of a dying spider. Thor's passionate blue eyes, strong jaw, steady gaze, bronze skin of sweet, earthy scent that reminded Loki of forests and comfort, all of which he could never, ever have..._why is Fate doing this to him_...

"Loki, thanks for waiting," said Thor.

Loki just stood there, staring at him. He didn't speak, only because he didn't trust his voice.

"Um...is Astrid all right? Were you able to heal her?" Thor looked anxious, nervous, probably because he was worried for "Astrid", and Loki wished with all his might that Thor would show such concern for _him,_ wished that at that moment he could disappear, for he couldn't hide his hurt that much longer.

"Y-yes." Loki grimaced. His voice was much too high.

For a while they stood there in silence, looking at each other. Loki wondered what was wrong and waited for Thor to speak. But Thor remained silently staring at Loki, and then his eyebrows ominously began to furrow. While Loki tried as much as he could to hold the eye contact, to show he had nothing to hide, the intensity of the cerulean irises soon became too much for his aching heart, and he averted his gaze.

_Those eyes would never look at him with the love they had showed Astrid. Never..._

Suddenly, Thor grabbed Loki's coat. Loki's eyes widened with shock as they followed the movement of Thor's deft fingers, which flew rapidly over the buttons and the zippers, trying to do what Loki couldn't at the moment tell. Because curiosity won over instinct for self-defense, Loki hardly tried to stop him from pushing the buttons through their respective holes and unzipping the zippers. It seemed as if Thor was trying to see something on Loki, trying to find something behind his collar...

Loki blanched. _Oh, no. His_ scar.

If Thor continued to unbutton and unzip, his scar will inevitably show, and inevitably Thor will discover the terrible secret.

"Stop, Thor," he suddenly cried, gripping one of Thor's wrists with both of his hands because it was so thick. "Stop, please," he implored, terrified. "What are you doing -"

Too late. The collar ripped apart with the force Loki added, and the green fabric fell open to reveal the long, ugly brown scab. Loki closed his eyes, convinced that a murderous punch would be the least of what Thor would to him. But Loki would let him; he deserved it. His chest felt numb with terror, and he quivered from the prospect of having his heart broken mercilessly, and forever.

A long silence followed. Then, to his ineffable surprise, a soft finger trailed across the scar. Because it was so unexpected and gentle, he winced in shock.

A soft voice whispered, "Loki...you were Astrid? All along?" It sounded strangely calm, not at all the volcanic explosions Loki had been expecting.

He opened his eyes, and he gasped a little. Thor's eyes were enormous, brimming with what seemed to be - Loki couldn't _believe_...was this a dream? - cautious, but undeniable, hope. The quivering edges of Thor's lips indicated suppressed excitement. Loki, on the other hand, couldn't help but stare in mute shock.

"_Are_ you? Please answer me," Thor asked desperately, still very soft, very cautious.

Loki bit his lips. He nodded, holding back tears.

"Did you mean it when you said you loved me?" asked Thor, looking a little more than hopeful now.

Loki waited for a moment to make sure he didn't read Thor's expression wrong. The slight curve at the corner of the lips and the raised eyebrows couldn't possibly mean anger, so he answered, softly too, "Yes, Thor. I do." _What was going to happen?_

Thor smiled. He genuinely smiled, and it was the brightest, happiest, most up-lifting expression any being in the universe could possibly wear, and Loki fancied he saw rays of light emitting from the golden locks on Thor's head. The lips curved delightfully wide, and his eyes beamed, twinkling and radiating more passion and love than Loki had yet seen Thor give to Astrid. Thor's happiness, so strongly expressed, was nearly tangible, and Loki nearly smiled too, hardly able to believe and understand what was happening. He inhaled sharply as Thor traced a gentle finger around his eyelids and down his cheeks.

"Loki...you...you truly mean it?" Thor breathed.

Loki nodded.

Then Thor pulled Loki into an enormous hug, something Loki had believed he would never experience again. As the arms tightly encircled Loki's thin body, glowing with warmth, Thor whispered into Loki's hair, "I've waited so long, so long for this. I never thought I could hold you in my arms like this. Everyday, for eight years, I've been thinking about you, never missing a single hour without seeing you in my thoughts..."

"Eight years?" asked Loki, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Thor pulled them apart to look at Loki's face again. "Don't you remember? That day in the forest? Eight years ago?"

Loki tried hard to recall, and caught only a vague wisp of an image of a bear, green trees, and a blonde boy he remembered thinking quite amiable. Thor seemed saddened by Loki's lapse in memory, but nevertheless took the time to reveal the eight-year-old secret of how he came to love Loki. As Loki listened, the shrapnel in his heart disappeared, and it mended itself with hope and joy, touched that his simple actions as a boy had left such a positive, indelible mark on the heart of another.

"But how did you realize I was Astrid?" asked Loki.

"Because," said Thor, "your eyes are swollen. And Astrid was crying so hard yesterday...why was she crying so hard?"

"Oh," answer Loki, embarrassed. "That was because I couldn't bear the fact that you'd never know who I really was. I thought that you'd never love the true me," he added softly.

Thor chuckled, tenderly. "And now it's your turn to tell me how you came to be Astrid," said Thor. By this time, they were walking side by side, with Thor holding Loki's hand - he had insisted, and Loki was not against it, towards Loki's home.

Loki told him all about the day before school began, how it had been Thor who had pushed him over, how he had been furious about it, how he managed to trick the school records to cover his secret. Thor listened with an incredulous expression that was mixed with happiness and relief. When Loki finished, Thor burst out laughing.

"I remember pushing you over," said Thor sheepishly after his bouts of laughter died down.

"Do you? Why did you do that? What if I had been casting a dangerous spell?" asked Loki, feigning irritation.

"Yes, I realized that after I committed the deed," answer Thor apologetically, "but I had only wanted to get your attention. I mean, you never looked at me, and I was rather impulsive at the moment. But boy, am I glad I did it!"

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_**The End!**_

_**I hope you enjoyed this journey. It's only my second Thorki story (please take a look at my first one - **_**Bittersweet Fate**_** - it's got the same fluffy elements, if you liked this story), though I've been an obsessed Thorki fan for much longer than this account shows XD. **_

_**I was a little surprised and disappointed in myself when some of you reviewers predicted how Thor would "realize" the truth...gotta work on my plot-twisting skills...**_

_**Anyways, THANK YOU ALL so much for reading to the end! And especially to you, reviewers! It's your enthusiasm that drove this story forward. **_

_**Dukas**_


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